


One shots and such

by TheMostCrimsonOfCalicos



Category: DreamSMP, Minecraft (Video Game), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Video Blogging RPF, Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: Angst, Bats, Cats, Clay | Dream & Technoblade Friendship (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Constant changes tag wise and note wise, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Ha just realized I can probably get away with tagging it as such so, Most of these have something to do with green bastard blob so hey, Pokemon, Pokemon Evolution, Ranboo Has a Tail (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo Has Horns, TommyInnit is Not Okay (Video Blogging RPF), Traitor Eret (Video Blogging RPF), Your mom's a Hoe!, let me just say, onto actual tags, whoever made bad and skeppy's tags their real-ass names
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:00:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 4,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27413110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheMostCrimsonOfCalicos/pseuds/TheMostCrimsonOfCalicos
Summary: The title says it so. Just some small, mostly short-story scribbles about minecraft blockmen._Most Recent: Tubbo got horns on his head, and he doesn't like that at all, actuallyNext up: George fucks around in the Holy Lands and finds out
Relationships: Clay | Dream & Floris | Fundy, Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Clay | Dream & TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Karl Jacobs & Sapnap, Ranboo & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 75





	1. Introduction--

This is a spot where I want to put my intended one-shots. I put usually put stories here when they're standalone blurbs that I don't plan to continue. So, if I find that that has changed, and have found a better place for a story, whether through extending it or adding it to a different series, I may move it!

Additionally, I may be capping this story soon, but the cap will extend accordingly if I do add new chapters. It's more a visual cap than anything, really.

Past the above, this chapter is mainly just bein used for the sake of formatting consistency, 

Actual chapters start past here, haha.

I hope you enjoy!

{And comments and kudos are what I crave, so please leave one if you do! I appreciate them :)]


	2. The Value of Being a Ruler, by Dream - Dream and Eret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream's thoughts on Eret.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set sometime during the Disk War, after Eret's betrayal of L'Manburg.

Eret was king. And Dream was fine with that, really. He liked Eret well enough, and he'd done his part well. 

'Sides, being the figurehead only got you so much. A castle, a crown, riches and such. Protection, from being one of a falling nation.

Dream, at the end of the day, still had his people. Their undying loyalty, their eyes watching his back and rejoicing at his return. 

He had friends who loved him, who'd fight to the death for him (not that he'd ever let death's fingers so much as graze them, but semantics). 

He had people to come back to, to know he was forever welcome to run with.

It was much more than Eret could say they had, wasn't it?

(It was a little funny. Dream wouldn't have taken that offer, had it been given to him. Maybe the lonely King deserved it, rotting in her isolation.

If it had been _his_ friends, he would have went down with them.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear, the use of multiple pronouns for Eret is purposeful.
> 
> (Also! Song rec of the night is Calm Down Juliet by SycAmour. One 'cause I love it and two 'cause I think it fits the story until about 48 seconds in.)


	3. Saplingspark's smog - Sapnap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Saplingspark has a nightmare.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Sapnap-centric warrior cats au. Only two names are mentioned, I trust that they aren't hard to figure out.

Saplingspark darts awake, the edges of his dream still lacing fading tongue-spines around his brain.

It's just right there, lingering on his ear-tips. But he doesn't know. He can't really bring it back. He clicks his tongue, a fair bit annoyed- because if it was going to go and wake him up, it could at least do the bare minimum and stick around long enough for him to remember it- and settles back down.

Dreamstep nuzzles into him instinctively, a tiny, unguided lap at the fur of his neck making him feel fond and mushy and sappy. 

Even in sleep, the big guy was looking out for him.

He lets himself be quelled, snuggling back into his denmate's warmth. His dream is a little insignificant thing, unremembered and unimportant, by the time his eyes close once again.

He purrs, undisturbed by anymore baseless nightmares.

...

  
...

_Flames coat his tongue_  
_He can taste them in the air, taste them in his tears_  
_He can smell decay beneath the ground_  
_Watch flesh give way to bone_  
_Try not to shake as Dreamstep vomits tiny moons_  
_Stares at a wide ocean, surging, dousing_  
_There's a yellow pelt standing over a mound marked with flowers_  
_Eyes like sea turn to him, paws in the moon-touched marker sullying the lilacs, the forget-me-nots._  
_Standing there, to preen (or to cower), proud eyes shining_  
_He roars in rage, and the flames roar with him._

\- Saplingspark darts awake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd like to say, the reception I've gotten on just the first chapter has made me real happy, so, thanks. :) Hope everyone has a good one, and I hope for you good dreams.
> 
> Song rec of the day (afternoon, now, I think) is Deluge, by Twelve Foot Ninja. Name-wise, lyric wise, it fits this story pretty well.


	4. On sleepy hills - Dream and George

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gogy and Dre during Festival Day
> 
> (ft. Mentions of Sapnap, Karl, and Fundy.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {At some point after or while watching the festival, I had a little thought of "Dream and George are just sitting on a mountain somewhere, holding hands." So. :) I didn't quite write the hand holding, but feel free to imagine it throughout this read.]

Where are they? Does it matter? 

Who cares where he is! Some nosey little someones sure, but who cares about that. 

It doesn't matter where he is specifically, but. He's on a hill. A tall, far off hill that might be better classified as a mountain. It sits on a high ridge, and overlooks a certain section of the goings-ons. The (L')Manberg parts of it, where a party's going on, and where bombs are probably going to go off.

The grass is nice against his palms and the sun is ridging nicely over the trees, slowly, slowly sinking- and George is here.

He's sleepy, cause George is a guy that needs his beauty sleep. And it's not really late, but meh. He's still tired. (That's fine. Not like he has any obligations to be attending to.

...ha.)

And, well, he's out here with him instead of within the goat's country today. 

He doesn't really know what to expect from Wilbur, honestly. Doesn't really care either. Blow it up, don't, it'll be chaotic and that's all he's asking of it. But. He looks down at his dozing friend on his shoulder. Smiles a bit, because George would never do something so endearing within view of prying eyes.

He just doesn't want George blown up, is all. Sapnap either, which is why he's gone (and from what he glimpsed, he took Karl with him. How sweet.) He almost, almost wishes he had warned his fiance, but his morals weren't clear enough for him.

Honestly, Fundy's morals might not even be clear to Fundy. Which he wouldn't really mind much in any other situation, but impending explosions and all that. Someone indecisive about where they stood in this just wouldn't work, and he wouldn't be making exceptions, not even for his betrothed.

And if he ended up betraying him, and in turn his two most important people- Well. He didn't need or really want a fox skin rug, you know? It just doesn't feel worth the chance. He'd probably end up feeling pretty bad about it.

Yeah, yeah. He'd kill Fundy, if he got them hurt. It's not a surprising realization to make, but he still doesn't favor it. So. Best not let him do that. Best not to even give that whole scenario even the chance of happening.

Besides, his fiance is smart. Surely there's something going on in that foxy little head. 

Hopefully. 

It wouldn't be very ideal to pick fur out of the rubble, either.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's written a little different! It's cause it wasn't written as a part of this series, just as an unconnected oneshot. I hope it's still enjoyed!
> 
> Song rec of the day is- was... going to be Roman Holiday, by uh. Niki Minaj, because I hate these minecraft blockmen (/j) and also cause I couldn't think of a song. It was a joke. But then.. I was... vibing with it... and the song kinda fit?  
> .  
> Okay. I have two other, actual recs, Moment by lildeath, and We own the Night by Dance Gavin Dance. Moment's just great in general, but it's more like a lovey song, and WOTN actually feels like a song that fits this chapter, at least somewhat.


	5. George's part of the 'drio; Sad, sad slice of the three-way pie - George

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George gives some TLC to his head of the team Dodrio.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An au in which the Dream Team have team pokemon that they all share. One is this Dodrio.
> 
> [Know that one pokedex entry that talks about Dodrio and what their heads represent? That's what this is based off.]

The head makes a sad sound, and he runs a hand through the coarse feathers of its face. His head was the one keeping watch tonight amongst the collective pokemon, but it seemed determined to be sad the entire time. Which, obviously. But he wanted it to be a little less so, and his part of the Dodrio did like to be around him. Already, some of those harsh lines of sadness etched into its face were decreasing as careful fingers massaged them away. Not all of them, never all, but it was still good. Better.

His bird makes a sad yet somewhat contented coo, looking up at him with squinty, watery eyes. "It's okay." He rubs the sides of its head a bit more gently, a kind, constant touch. "It's okay. It's fine." He moves its head closer to skim his lips over its beak, then leans his cheek against it, muffling its near-blubbering and giving it its much-wanted closeness.

He takes a breath in through his nose and just breathes with his pokemon. They didn't always get substantial time together, he knew, and while he didn't consider himself very sappy, or touchy, he knew he couldn't just have his partner to feel neglected. Dream's part of the pokemon, the middle head, the angriest, and unspoken leader of the formation, easily got the most attention. For understandable reason, as it was the main and often loudest part of their triumvirate, but it made it hard for George's to keep up. Even Sapnap was hard to be seen over, joy being such a powerful and exuberant emotion. Even when it was in the background, whether helping out or causing chaos, it was having fun.

Then there was his poor boy. He was just sad, all the time. Always, at the bare minimum, afflicted with an unceasing melancholy. And sometimes it was like this, sorrowful and teary with no obvious cause.

Or... he sits up, smoothing a hand across it brow, and it's beak trembles. He sighs, tired but fond. "I know, you big baby, I know." 

It was like this today. Something a little more solitary, something like desolation. His head didn't need a lot of attention, and often didn't even want it- they were alike, that way. But it didn't want to be disconnected from its trainer, his head had gotten a little lonely.

So. As much as his back would hate him for it, he knees over and settles himself against its side, knowing that the other birds would stay asleep despite their connected body, so long as his head didn't alert them.

The plush-esk fuzz at least cushioned his back. He gives the bird's face one last pat for the night. "I'll see you in the morning. Watch over us, alright?"

Quiet as could be, his pokemon closes its eyes and leans into it, giving a soft, trembly, "drii...".

Finally, he gets to see one of the better faces of his pokemon, as it settles into something between happiness and sadness. Sweet in face for its appreciation of the time spent together, bitterness there that it did have to end.

As his pokemon fully encases itself in suadade, George lets himself fall asleep.  
-  
He wakes to a disapproving shove and an aching back, the middle head very unhappy with his weight lying on top of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me looking up synonyms for the word 'sad'- the story.
> 
> Also, the war is today, song rec is Make the Grade by Jack Conte, have a good one, gotta go bye!
> 
> Hope you enjoy I might add a song later! {And I did!] Spelling errors grammar issues if you see em let me know!


	6. Fly like a Peregrine Falcon - BadBoyHalo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BBH and his Salamence share a moment, of vastly different emotions, under the sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another Pokemon Trainer au, my main one, this time featuring Bad and his newly evolved dragon-type partner.
> 
> (As a note, I say my main one because this and the last chapter don't really have anything to do with each other (and when I write pokemon/mcyt shit, I'm usually using the outline I'm using for this one.). Like, not really in the same universe. In general, I wouldn't be paring George up with a Dodrio, you know? Bad with a Salamence, however? Absolutely.)

Starlight sparkles on Shelgon's back and wings- _wings!_ \- and the dragon gives them an experimental flap.

Bad takes a shaky step closer. "Shelgon, you're- well, you're not a shelgon anymore, you- wow..."

He was as in awe of her wings as she seemed to be excited by them, craning her head back and forth to get a better look at them. He moves forward, hands grabby and urged to rub, before stopping a few moments before making contact. "Is this okay? They aren't sore are th- ooooh."

Her wings were leathery and smooth, the thin scales of wing membrane so much different from anything he'd ever touched before.

"So this," he gasps, cutting himself off and looking up to his partner with almost tangible excitement. "Puffin, maybe this means you can fly!"

The blue dragon snorts with surprise, flapping her wings untimely, uncertainly.

"Yeah, yeah! Oh, oh, here, like this!"

Bad hops back a bit, flapping his arms up and down empathetically. Puffin peers at him closely, eyes large and impressionable and copying his movements.

She gives an excited, rumbling growl as she hops, keeping her flapping consistent with her trainer's.

"There, you're getting it!" Another happy shriek and she hops again. "You can do it, come on!" She releases an elated cry, neck darting forward to grab him by the scruff of his hoodie, and her next leap is right off the side of the hill.

"Wh- AHHHHHHHHHHHHPUFFIIIIIIN!"

Trainer gripped securely, (by her standards at least) Puffin falls towards the ground.

Bad screams, heart in his throat, nowhere to stick his flailing, wind-buffeted limbs, and watching the demise that is direct, unprotected contact with the earth coming in at a terrifying speed.

"PUFFINPUFFIN- FLAPYOURWINGS-!"

Puffin grumbles in panicked confusion, before soon after making a sound of clarity.

Bad's voice reaches a new octave, and with struggle he raises his hands to cover his eyes.

Her feels a heavy shock of wind pass over him, and whimpers in dismay. Had- had he just died? Was that it? At least it hadn't hurt.

Though... an insistent, squeaky grumble is loud in his ears, and his neck feels a little sore...

Arms shaking, he slowly removes them from his face. At a disruptive movement that jostles his whole body, he shrieks and opens his eyes.

And.

The night's sky is like a painting- of blue and purple and orange, red at the zenith like the brightest of sunshine. Stars are speckled about like haphazard brush flecks flickered from a mane of bristles. The smallest bit of yellow was just rising over the bottom of the skyline, a herd of hooved plains-runners making their way, a small slice in the sky like a crescent-moon sun.

It's beautiful. The tears falling from his eyes hardly even detract from it; it's still so beautiful. 

"Puffin... Puffin, it's great."

Slowly, Puffin cranes her head behind her, placing her trainer none-too-carefully onto her back. Bad clings with stiff arms, nerves getting the best of him while he tries to get his legs properly situated. His head is almost buried in Puffin's neck, but he raises it at a cherry call from above him.

He raises his head, and the sky stretches out before him. Gentle colors surrounding him, growing steadily brighter, encasing him with calm. He straightens up, and smiles, breathless.

"We're flying."

Puffin crows in triumph.

"I- _I'm_ flying."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name Puffin was orginally meant to be change upon her evolution, but the name grew on me while writing. In the story's universe, puffin is a mix of Penguin (or Piplup? Prinplup?) and Muffin. I just think of the pretty-beaked birds when I write it though.  
> And 'Puffin' is more of a name that fits a 'mon of Bad's than 'Peregrine', I think.
> 
> Also, this was inspired in part by the story Bad told to Skeppy about how he wanted to fly as a kid. The second I heard that, it struck me that a Bagon would be one of the best pokemon to give him. He's there when his 'mon finally gets her wings, so she takes him with her so they can soar together.
> 
> One more thing, I reworked the sky description a lot until I got it to a point that I, now, actually am in love with. I went from 'I hope whoever reads this gives me tips on how to be better' to 'I really, really like this.'
> 
> So, I guess here's your mini reminder not to give up on yourself. There's always that potential to do so well you impress even your most harsh critic. Sometimes you can even impress you. :)
> 
> Lastly, song rec of the day is Fly Away, By TheFatRat.  
> Alrighty, have a good day y'all.


	7. Dour Panda Hours - Punz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Punz loses a pet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Takes place after Awesamdude's 11-7 stream titled DREAM SMP | BECOMING THE MOST OFFICIAL POWERFUL ON THE SERVER. At least, that's the perspective I watched it from. The Badlands vs Punz and Sapnap wasn't really my vibe, but I did get something out of it.)
> 
> {Neat how this chapter kinda shows how far back my writing is backlogged. That stream was a minute ago. Weird.]

The platinum-blond didn't do, like, sappy shit. Not really. But it felt owed, cause the big guy had almost been a part of the family. Almost. 

They'd had their long adventure, they'd made plans, and ultimately it had added up to nothing. 

He frowns uncomfortably at the underwhelming sight, and wonders idly if Sam would be willing to spiffy it up, considering all the pet-threats that'd ended up throw his way. (Which, reminder, hadn't been him. That was Sapnap, who'd felt wronged by Sam's double crossing, which was fair but also had nothing to do with Punz. Punz' issue had been with Antfrost. It still is, a little bit, with Antfrost.)

They'd never got to make it official, so it seemed only fair to showcase all the names the panda could've gotten.

Dumpling, Sushi, Pandascanpvp (stupid name). And Dumptruck. That one had been growing on him. 

Punz holds sight of the little makeshift grave and sighs, dropping the daisy or whatever it was and standing smoothly out of his crouched position. 

"Sucks."

He turns and heads to log out, honestly not wanting to be here anymore. He was over it. But.

It would've been cool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {I'm in the Still-a-little-sad-about-Dumptruck club.]
> 
> Also, first time writing Punz, and I don't really watch Punz. This is kinda like, secondhand characterization, but I think I did alright.
> 
> Anyway, would you believe me if I said I put this off for like two weeks because I was trying to find a song? Today's is what second-to-last chapter's was, Pets by TWRP. Very annoying, that. Good song though.


	8. And we didn't even touch on the crown - Tommy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy reflects on the fact that his trust is often misplaced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written after the stream where Dream discusses a hidden traitor within Pogtopia's midst.

Tommy thinks about Schlatt, and how he'd been like an idol to him. The guy who'd made all his friends shriek with laughter, and who'd given him business advice. That man was the bane of him and the entire server's allied existences, right now.

Tommy thinks about how Wilbur was his brother, his older brother. Someone he's supposed to be able to trust unconditionally. Someone who everyday threatened to blow their old home to nothing, who didn't even want to listen to him when he'd begged him not to. (Who'd have done it anyway, not that Tommy knew. The only reason they were still standing was because, ironically, of JSchlatt.)

Tommy thinks about how Dream had almost been something like a brother. Like someone he could tentatively feel comfortable in the presence of. How he'd honestly, really thought that they were friends. (They'd fought on the same side, they'd talked, they'd laughed, he'd trusted him, he'd thought-)

He thinks about how the masked man had spit that belief right back into his face, laughter stark in his voice, like he couldn't believe Tommy had been dumb enough to even pose the thought. (How, even when serving Jschlatt, he'd had gone and subtly sided with Wilbur. Wilbur, who was batshit out of his mind, who was a danger to everyone... and Dream, who only wanted chaos. Who didn't care about saving his brother from himself, simply glad to watch and fuel the insanity that was burning the old president up from the inside out.)

(He pointedly does not think about how much Dream had sounded like Wilbur, when he'd denouced their friendship.)

Tommy thinks about all this, and wonders if his choice in the people he clings to is just terrible.

Or maybe all the adults in this server are fucking terrible- maybe that's it. Maybe the people in this place were just backstabbing, self-serving pieces of shit. 

Maybe that was it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is referencing the fact that Technoblade isn't even mentioned here. (Keep in mind that this isn't quite due to laziness, though you don't gotta put it past me, but because this was literally written before the events of the uhh L'Manberg War? What are we calling it?)  
> And we know how that brother figure works out lmfao. Tommy's got it rough, man.
> 
> Brother by Kodaline is a good song.


	9. Festival Sparklers - Karl and Sapnap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sapnap lets Karl attend the Festival by himself. He regrets it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Inspired by the little bit Karl does when someone leaves a stream, and he'll go "who was that guy," it's hilarious, but I had an angsty thought.)
> 
> (Was Karl actually at the Festival? I haven't the slightest, but hey. Sometimes it do be how it be.)
> 
> (Also I wrote this... around the festival date! It's old! That's my justification for no Quackity metion cause after rereading and checking over this I really want him in here, but I'm also not trying to shift this story's conclusiveness too much. One day, Karlnapity trio.)

"Who was that?"

"It was Dream, Karl."

"Oh. Oh, okay." He does that thing where he just acts like he knows what's going on. Sapnap doesn't feel like calling him out on it.

Karl pats his hands on his pants to an unfamiliar rhythm, looking away and up and all around obviously. He knows he's doing it without looking, because he turns towards him and the brunette quickly evades eye-contact. He hadn't needed to hear or see it. He just knows his tells and habits, they were repetitively consistent.

He doesn't know what exactly happened when that rocket hit his house-mate, but now he had a shit sense of object permanence and an odd swirling scar on the back of his head to show for it.

The mental image of someone actually shooting to kill him, shooting him in the back while he tried to run away- that shit made him burn. And he couldn't do anything about it, so he tried not to think about it.

"Karl. Kitchen. Be right back."

And he goes to the kitchen.

He shouldn't do stuff like this. He riffles around in a chest for a moment, just trying to do something with his hands. Gross anticipation crawls through his chest.

Maybe he did feel like calling him out on it. In a way he couldn't argue. In a way that was shitty, and petty, and helped nothing. 

"Sapnap? Sapnap, where'd you go?"

He shouldn't do it to Karl, and he shouldn't do it to himself.

"Sapnap?"

He shouldn't leave him alone like this. Alone and about to cry because he doesn't know where he is, or where _he_ is.

"Sap...?" He wasn't gonna cry about it again. He wasn't. 

He hears sniffling start from the other room, and suppresses his urge to bury his head in his hands. This was so fucked up.

(He wanted to kill Schlatt. So much.)

(And that _fucking Pig._ )

He gets up, walks back in.

Karl flinches and looks up at him sharply, something wild, confused, and scared making up the wetness of his red-blue tinged eyes.

"Who are you?" The tears trail down his face as he talks. His voice shakes.

The similarly shuddery pyrotechnic blinks with hard eyes, mouth pursed.

"Sapnap."

Realization comes to his face.

It's so fast. Like he hadn't even forgotten. And yet.

"Oh hey." Karl wipes a wrist past his wet eyes. "I missed you."

The noirette takes him into his arms, which the other readily reciprocates.

"Me too."

He presses his face into Karl's shoulder, breathing out shakily, breathing in the everpresent scent of colorful gunpower. He isn't crying.

He isn't. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {Not my best work imo, but I wanted to get it down.]  
> Also I just wanna briefly say that this isn't meant to reflect any kind of mental disorder. If anything it reflects in part how I go about things with like, locations and tasks and that's pretty much it.  
> -  
> Alternatively, please don't ask me what his head injury might reflect cause the answer is nothing except maybe my own joking lack of object permanence and forgetfulness.
> 
> Ok!
> 
> "Oh. Who was that guy?"  
> Karl's theme in this chapter is the Nyan Cat song (Slowed + Reverb). It can be found on YouTube, by itspeyday. It's kinda all that's going on in head. Whole lotta nonsense. And meowing.


	10. Napoleon- Dream and Technoblade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New speedrunner Dream and the notorious Technoblade have an encounter, and an exchange of names.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a lil thing that came to mind. The context given is sparse but that's really all there is to it lmao. I like it though.
> 
> It's also mostly dialogue.

"Napoleon." He tries the name out on a clicking tongue and raised eyebrows. "Well, I'm Clay," he drawls the last part, just a bit. "Most people call me Dream."

"Dream. Yeah, I've heard that. Newest speedrunner on the block."

"Uh-huuh." He rocks on his feet. "I'm surprised and, like, flattered. Who'd'a thunk? The great Technoblade has heard of me."

"Oh, so you do know who I am." He shrugs a little. "Figured I might be dealin' with someone who didn't get out much."

Dream snickers, and all he can think to describe it is like the laughter embodiment of a puff puff pass.

"Well, I don't really wanna test my luck hand to hand, but I could definitely outrun you, so. I see the mighty 'blade, why not strike up a conversation?"

The hog raises an eyebrow, ear flickering. "A desire to keep livin' for most, I'd assume."

"Well, I'm still alive, right? That's gotta mean something. Have I charmed you with my winning personality?"

"I'm sure many would tell you bein' alive for a few more minutes doesn't count for much. Y'know, if they could."

"Haha! Well, hey, hey, never let it be said that I don't know when I'm not wanted." Dream flicks his wrist and unveils an enderpearl, tosses it long past the tree-line. "See ya, Techno. Hope you're feeling less murdery next time we talk." With a cocky two-fingered salute, he disperses in a cloud of green and purple.

Techno blinks at the spot the other had dissapeared. Snorts and turns around. 

Finally heading towards his house, he makes note to keep an eye out for nerds with smiley face masks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two mfs in a forest, what will they do?
> 
> [Not calling techno by his real name cause one I dont like it and two he doesn't like it so win win. (Yeah there's the scantest bit of Dream real name but t'was brief ya'know.) Yeah I'm calling this mf napoleon like the pig off animal farm what of it? Context? No. Kinda wanted to post this individually, but eh.]
> 
> I'm rec-ing 'I see a Dreamer' by CG5. Cause I found it pretty recently (read: I saw it in one of Ranboo's media streams) and really liked it. It's a jam.  
> Also Selenium Forest by Plini. It's a very cool instrumental song, very calming at the start, and I'm putting it here too cause I'd forgotten I already had a song chosen haha.
> 
> {Also. Can I say that I wrote 'puff puff pass' without knowing what it meant initially. I thought it was like. Train smoke. I was half right lmao. I didn't wanna get rid of the line though so I just worked around it. Hope it doesn't look too strange, pfft.]


	11. Burning houses, and bridges as well - Tubbo and Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy burns down the King's cottage, and puts Tubbo in a terrible position.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -ft. Tommy
> 
> I just wanted to write a little scene in the courtroom. It doesn't really follow canon too well, I don't think.
> 
> Also bruh I said the last chapter was dialogue-heavy what the hell is this.

"He burned George's home?" He asks, a slight bit faintly. 

"He did. The home of our King, unprovoked, unjust." The masked man(?) turns to Tubbo, the President, lips downturned as if sympathetic. "Tubbo, I like you. You're a good President." He leans the smallest bit closer, voice turning more grave. "But Tubbo, something like this... an attack from your own acting vice president... you do realize we could see this as an act of treason, don't you? A declaration of a new war against the Greater Dream SMP?"

"I- Dream. It." He stops for a second to let his brain catch up with his mouth. "Okay. I understand. But. It doesn't have to be another war. I don't want war, none of us-" He stops, glances at Tommy behind his bars and furious expression and looks away with an uncomfortable grimace. "The majority of New L'Manberg. We don't want war. I believe we can reach compromise, Dream. We can work through this."

"Hm. Well- maybe we can! I'm sure we can, I'm sure there's many alternatives to war- but," he moves to stand next to him, tone lowered so no one else could hear and head inclined in his direction. "Between you and me, Tubbo- and maybe everyone at this point, honestly- we both know how Tommy is. This little stunt of his? It'll just be repeat behavior. You know how Philza's bunch are, right? Stuck in their ways. That's why I like you Tubbo, you knew how to change, and for the better even, I mean," he straightens up, projects his voice with real appreciation, "look at this place." He takes in the interior of the building they stand in, the outside that was rife with new life breathed into the nation. "L'Manberg looks great under you. It'd be a real shame for one person to ruin that."

Tubbo swallows, deeply distraught at what his options looked like.

"All I'm gonna say: exiling Tommy would be quick fix-it, don't you think?"

"I. I will... consider your words, Dream." And he would. Because he didn't have a goddamn choice. "We'll- We'll reconvene at a later date. Hopefully we'll reach a conclusion that works for both of us."

Dream hums, satisfied and even. "Hopefully, you make the right decision. Bye, President Tubbo. I'll be seeing you."

"Bye.."

"Tommy, what the _fuck_ have you done?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, this was written way before Techno had his arc going on. So take that 'philza and his brood being unwilling to change' line with a grain of salt, haha. [Worst thing about writing stuff awhile in advance is old endnotes. Even that edited note isn't up to date. But. I am very sleepy, so like that it'll be.]
> 
> Song Rec of the night is Justice by Everything Everything. I've always considered it a really fitting song for Wilbur after the election. And since I probably won't be writing anything from Wilbur's perspective, I wanna put it here.
> 
> {Me at me: bruh why do you Have To have a song rec tho. Like for why.  
> Me, back to me: Just gotta.]


	12. Executioner's apologist - Tommy and Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy is scheduled to be executed. When one is asking Dream for help, make sure the details of your plight aren't a more interesting prospect than lending you aid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which The Schlatt Administration managed to get ahold of Tommy, and his death-date is set.

_(He can't get free by himself. He's on his knees, and they're ached and scrapped up. His arms are tied tight behind his back, wrists rug-burned. (He'd fought too hard for them to put his hands through the holes next to his face, so they'd improvised.) The blood feels like its flowing in his head weirdly, and his neck is horribly chafed by the big gate-like contraption fitted over it._

_Well and good, he was fucked._

_And he remains there with that thought until the clanking of boots on shaky wooden stand meets his ears._

_He cranes his head up, and starts ranting and raving to the grinning ceramic mask that is Dream._

_Many unthought words in, and he makes a mistake.)_

"Come on, man, I'm going to be execu-" he stops, shuts his stupid big mouth but it's already too goddamn late. 

Dream hops down with a lilt in his step, voice curious. "Executed? You're going to be executed?" His head tilts a bit at that and Tommy feels a chill gather in the pit of his stomach at the slight uptake at the end of his words. Something undeniably interested, something excited.

"Dream- Dream, come on, man, I need your help-"

"Executed. I've never had an execution before. Not all," he looks around, gestures broadly, "official, like this. That's interesting. That's _interesting_."

"No, no, it's not anything interesting at all- Dream he's gonna kill me!"

"Well. Maybe he won't."

"Wh-! What'd'you even mean-!"

"Someone might come help you!" He insists, very much sounding taken with the idea of letting this play out, so enthralled with seeing this story unfold without input. "One of your Pogtopia allies, maybe someone from Manberg." He shrugs. "Or maybe no one. I guess we'll see."

Tommy squints back his despair. 

"Dr- Big Man, please."

He does pause for a moment. But.

"Sorry, Tommy. I won't be getting involved. Good luck, though."

And the green bastard can't stop himself, it seems, from making one last little unfunny quip.

"Don't- ahah- lose your head."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recing Blammed from Friday Night Funkin' because it fucks (also maybe cause blammed sounds like blamed and blammed = equals shot = killed yada yada and such. But mostly because it fucks.). I wonder if notes like these throw off the 'shots lmao.


	13. Friendship is hidden in the chasing of the bat - Ranboo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ranboo during his encounters with a certain bat, and a certain black-haired dude with an affinity for fire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ft. Sapnap
> 
> Ranboo and a bat, or, why Ranboo is probably the best one on the server.

The underhang was alright.

The sound of rain so close to him, rather than how he usually hears it, from within the walls and beneath the roof of a house, is very weird.

That isn't to say he hasn't been caught in odd places by the rain, because he probably has. Probably. Most likely at some point, certainly.

Alright, he doesn't know 100%. But with a little inferring, surely he wasn't wrong to assume.

Heck, it happened with Sapnap when he'd had to find Batthew in the first place. On that note, Sapnap is an interesting character. Incredibly terrifying to, surprisingly, very calm and almost bashful, almost childish when telling him all about his apparently very beloved pet bat.

That is what leads him here, actually. He promised to look after said bat, firstly. Secondly, he'd kind of feel pretty bad individually if something happened to Batthew at this point. He'd already had that Close Call with the Obsidion Wall™, he was kind of personally invested now.

And the bat was alright. High maintenance with the potential to be an absolute terror if it got loose, yes. But kind of cute. Important to not just Sapnap, but to Tommy, who was someone Ranboo could definitively call a friend. (He didn't need any more reason to help out, but if he had, there one was.)

Him and Sapnap aren't really there yet, he doesn't think. He has no ulterior motives in this; someone asked him to watch a bat, and he said 'sure', so he's watching a bat. But if it ended up sparking a friendship between him and the town pyrotechnic, he doesn't really see how it wouldn't be a good thing. Or at least a nice thing.

And if it doesn't, it doesn't. He's still watching the bat.

-

He hears steps behind him that he can place as 'confident and a little cheery,' and figures who it is before they speak. "Oh, you've actually been watching him." Also because who else would be here and why, y'know?

His tail fwips and he shrugs a little. "Hm. Yeah, you asked me to."

"Well, yeah, but you know." Said in a tone that detachedly implies that he really should.

He doesn't. He could guess, but. Mm.

"He's a cool bat," why not say something with confidence instead. Something definitive instead of guesswork. 

Sapnap grins, sharp and friendly. "He's the goddamn _coolest_ bat."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I do stand by my topnote, which is pretty old by now, Ranboo do be goin through it atm. Man. Lmao
> 
> Whew! This is so oooold. Okay. 
> 
> In honor of the Lemon Demon lovin Enderman-boy, today I'm recing Winter Horrorland, from Friday Night Funkin. It's not quuiite lemon demon, but hey. Close enough. :)


	14. I looked in the mirror, and saw the devil's horns on my head - Tubbo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tubbo has horns now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set during sometime after Schlatt's execution

Tubbo's horn hurt.

Honestly, it feels pretty... bad, to be complaining about them. The horns are a representation of the fact that he'd betrayed everyone (or at least that's his theory), and he doesn't think he deserves it, per se. He'd never asked for them, never wanted them, but.

... well, there was a reason why they were there.

He looks at his reflection, his scars, his brand new aesthetic. 

Hope for the best, plan for the worst, right? That was, like, exhale worthy. Worth a big breath, because wow. That'd been right out of his own mouth.

He just couldn't have anticipated something like that. Being dealt a blow so jarring and painful, that for a moment, he'd actually been gone.

And then he was back, of course. But unlike every other time he'd died, not scar-less. No, not at all.

The brunt of it had hit his left, in that initial blast. It'd fired nearly dead-center, and he remember the fearful exhale in his throat going hot as his chest exploded, hot as his blood bursting from his still living-body. It'd singed the front of his arm, seared the last three fingers of his hastily-risen hand to crisps. 

The second one, off to his right and fired at his head, had been what killed him. 

So, of course, his body had remnants of that entire encounter, and not just the end-bits. 

Thinking it's unfair sounds incredibly childish, that's without even mentioning how messed up it is to think anyway, but somewhere deep down he does. Tommy had, to his knowledge, gotten off completely scot-free free from his first death, down in the final control room. So why had his respawn been so incomplete? It just. Wasn't fair.

(But maybe it was, when he thinks about the unrestrained heartache and fury that the encounter had etched into his friends soul, that he'd been able to read so clearly for once, before being run through by their enemies.)

He looks in the mirror, at the scar marring the left side of his face, the twisted horn atop the right side of his head.

It's nearly downright laughable. He couldn't even keep his horns in one piece, regardless of how much he hadn't wanted them. They were stuck on his head, he could've at least... no. That was. Technoblade. That was from the explosion. 

Now he had this dumb little gnarl on his broken-horned head that he had no idea what to do about, because the only person who might've was a dick and not even a goat and now just a grave to dance on.

So it was all just great. Just.

Great! That's just-

Oh.

Oh, he's crying about it.

God, it's almost funny. What would Schlatt say.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story utilizes a headcanon of mine that Tubbo's two canon deaths both come from his time in Manberg, and both from Technoblade. Both from his rockets. First up on the podium and then in the back once he was President, and trying to repair New L'Manberg.
> 
> That stated, today's rec is me going 'fuck it, no subtly.' G.O.A.T by Polyphia. It is a lyricless, instrumental banger.


End file.
